Maple Colored Rage
by Half-Angel-Writer
Summary: This is what Canada does when his brother is hurt by himself. Character Death (2p!Canada) Oneshot America and Canada, NOT SLASH.


**A/N: Alright, new story series because I have plot bunnies that like to attack me.  
This oneshot (and others like it that will follow) were inspired by CMVs that I found on youtube. I'll put the links on my profile… eventually.**

**To start, here is a Oneshot featuring America, Canada and 2p!Canada. PLEASE COMMENT! I NEED THE FEED BACK!  
**

**EDIT: Please vote in my poll for the next part in the series. On my Profile!  
**

2p!Rising Series: Maple Colored Rage

"I wonder if he will see me today?" Thought Matthew Williams as he walked up the driveway to his brother's house. He had hoped to share a few beers and reconnect with his brother. It was just a random normal weekend, and Kumajiro, or whatever his polar bear's name was, was staying in the wilderness for a week to "reconnect with his family and hopefully improve his memory". Matthew had laughed but it got him thinking about his own brother and the connection that the two used to have. Suddenly, from behind the house came the sound of a gunshot, shattering the silence and Matthew heard the voice of his brother cry out in pain.

Breaking into a sprint, Matthew rounded the corner of the house into the spacious backyard, where he could see he brother and another person in the far corner of the field. His brother was staggering away, a flash of silver in his hand. The pistol. Matthew remembered that his brother always carried an old style revolver, but then he saw it slip from his hand to the ground.

"Alfred!" The Canadian whisper-shouted, running toward his brother as the older nation fell to the ground. "Alfred!" he called again. His brother turned his head to see his brother slowing to a halt, as the figure across from the fallen nation raised the gun, aiming it at the American's head.

"Mattie! Run!" Alfred groaned from the ground, his hands clutching at the gunshot wound in his chest. He could feel life slipping away, and though he had heard that nations could not die so long as their countries were still around, he wondered if was true.

Matthew stood frozen, staring at his fallen brother. Slowly, the northern country raised his eyes to his brother's attacker. Red eyes stared at him from under brown hair. Matthew gasped. His own face stared back at him, laughing.

"Not so tough now are you, America?" the Canadian look-alike scoffed. Mattie, panicked, glanced at his brother then back at his attacker. Alfred's blue eyes shut in pain, as he gasped.

"Go Mattie! Go! Run!"

"Why would you tell me to run? I beat you! Being a Hero can't save you now!" Matthew's look-alike scoffed. Then he noticed that the American was not even looking at him.

"What are you looking at? Who are you talking to?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"Please Mattie? You can't beat him… you can't help me." Alfred choked out. Mattie fell to his knees next to his brother, staring into his eyes. The Canadian shook his head, allowing his connection to his brother, long dormant in the back of his mind, to open once more, allowing the younger nation to give his brother some of his strength and access to the Canadian's innate healing ability. Alfred gasped loudly in pain as the effects kicked in. In his mind he heard his brother's soft voice, a hard edges that he rarely heard ringing through it.

_No. More. Running._ Came the thought. Looking over his shoulder at the strange version of himself standing, watching uncomprehendingly, Mattie's eyes narrowed, the blue colored orbs as hard as steel. He stood, allowing himself to be seen.

"Unforgivable." He said, for once not quiet at all, staring at the stranger. Alfred watched from the ground, shocked; he had forgotten this side of his brother.

"You!" the doppelganger growled. He raised his gun and fired at the Canadian.

Alfred cried out in worry for his brother. However, Matthew vanished before the bullet reached him. He reappeared to the left. The other Canada swung around and fired again. Again, Matthew vanished and reappeared, this time to the far right. Again, the other Canada turned and fired, this time laughing maniacally. Again, Matthew vanished from sight.

Less than a second later, Matthew reappeared; one hand wrapped around his other self's throat, the other holding his brother's pistol to the man's head. Alfred stared. The last time he had seen his brother holding someone at gunpoint, the younger nation's hands had shook and his resolve weakened. The American remembered the look of relief on his brother's face when England had taken Mattie's prisoner into custody. _"I couldn't do it, Al… I just couldn't do it"_ But now…

Matthew's hand never shook, his eyes never showed remorse or sorrow or a failing resolve.

"Never hurt my family again." He growled out, touching the barrel of the gun to the other's temple. Red eyes gazed into blue. Matthew shoved the other him away, and turned back to his brother.

"I'll do whatever I damn well please, sissy boy." Came the mocking voice from behind him, followed by more laughter. Matthew froze, his eyes locked with his brothers. Alfred held his breath, mentally begging his brother not to react. _Sorry, eh_ came the thought. Then Matthew spun around, raising his gun. He barely paused to line up his aim, and fired off four shots in quick succession. The other Canada staggered backwards at each shot. The first hit him in the abdomen, piercing his stomach, then blowing a hole out the back; the next went through the bottom of his left lung, shattering a rib; the next followed into the right lung, shattering a rib, bouncing off the spine and blowing through another rib; the final shot went right through the other Canada's heart, tearing out the walls between the sections. The darker version stared at the real Canada as he fell to his knees. He coughed then threw up a wave of blood, falling forward onto his hands. A moment later, he collapsed, wheezing and coughing. Matthew watched, his face impassive as his doppelganger died, his blood soaking into the grass beneath him. Matthew turned away, as the body of his fallen other self faded away.

The Canadian slowly walked to his brother, who had propped himself up on one arm. Not a word or though was exchanged, Alfred understanding the look on his brother's face. Alfred looked up at his brother, the dying light of day casting an orange glow over the younger's face. The American took the offered hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

"You ok?" came Matthew's soft voice.

"Yeah, I think so. Whatever that healing ability you have is, it is kick ass fast." Alfred replied, glancing at his blood stained jacket. A twinge of discomfort was he felt as he stretched out his left arm.

"Good. Let's head home, eh?"

"Yeah… Hey listen, Mattie? I'm sorry for ignoring you all these years… I guess I got so caught up in being the hero that I forgot how much of a team we used to be."

"It's no big deal. What brought this on?" The Canadian asked. The America shrugged.

"Seeing you act like that reminded me of a few things…" He said, trailing off.

Matthew gave a small smile. "And because you are afraid of me now?"

"WHAT? NO! I-I... The Hero is never afraid of his brother." Came the nervous reply.

"Riiiiight." Mattie gave a soft chuckle. Alfred let out his signature loud laugh, grabbing Mattie around the neck and giving him a nuggie, ruffling his hair. Mattie yelped, and struggled to get away, laughing softly. Alfred finally let him go, and the two continued back toward Alfred's house. They trudged up the stairs of the porch, and Alfred unlocked the door. Lithuania had left for the season, and the house was empty.

The two brothers' collapsed into chairs in the living room and sat in silence. America grabbed the remote and turned the TV on, lowering the volume and watching the news. Matthew eventually got up, walked to the kitchen and grabbed two beers from the fridge. He made his way back out to the living room, tossing one to Alfred and settled back into his chair. And there they sat for the rest of the evening.

Eventually, the two brothers got hungry and ordered a pizza, eating slowly, neither really talking, both lost in their thoughts. At the end of the night, they made their way up stairs, Alfred to his bedroom, Mattie to the spare bedroom that he always used. Just as he was about to close the door, the Canadian heard a soft voice behind him.

"Hey Matthew?"

"Eh?"

"Thanks, bro." Then Alfred's door clicked shut. Matthew smiled slightly and whispered, "You're welcome… Bro." and closed his own door.

**A/N: yeah… it kinda came to me randomly… what do you think?**


End file.
